Amicitia
by The Third Marauder
Summary: A series of one-shots relating the story of the closest friends the world has ever seen from Sirius' point of view. Before "Did You?" MWPP era.


**Disclaimer:** **See below**

**Friends?**

A cold hand was put on his shoulder, and Sirius met his father's eyes, an icy mirror of his own. "You're the Black heir, Sirius. You will do us proud." It wasn't a demand or a question; it was an expectation. One set upon him since birth.

"There are plenty of good families with children in your year, Sirius. You will not be lacking a proper group of associates." His mother surveyed the platform distastefully. "There will be no need for any mingling with unsavory sorts." She sneered at a family of muggles close by.

"No, mother." He agreed obediently, a little too quickly to mask his enthusiasm.

"Narcissa'll be there. She'll keep an eye on you, I expect. If you need anything, don't hesitate to owl." His mother continued, as if there hadn't been any interruption.

"Naturally," Sirius smirked.

His father knelt to his son's level, his hands on a knee. "I enjoyed Hogwarts immensely; I'm sure you will too. Horace Slughorn is an exceptional wizard and he will take excellent care of you." Orion Black straightened up, and looked at his younger son, next to him. "Walburga, let's join your brother and Abraxas. Regulus, you have a minute…"

"Thank you, father." The ten year old boy said respectfully. The two boys, alike in looks, waited for their parents to get out of hearing range, before the younger one grabbed his brother's sleeve enthusiastically, "You'll write me, won't you, Sirius?"

"'Course I will, little brother." Sirius ruffled his younger brother's elegant black hair with a grin. "I'll send you part of a suit of armor too, if you want."

Regulus made a face, "Don't tease. I was being serious."

"So was I," Sirius responded softly. He didn't get along well with his parents; he hadn't seen enough of them to know either of them well, but he and Regulus had grown up together and Sirius had taken care of his younger brother ever since he could remember.

"I'll miss you," Regulus whispered, wrapping his arms around his brother and protector.

"You'll see me during the holidays, Reg. And it'll only be for a year, yeah?" Sirius comforted soothingly, before releasing the boy. "I ought to board the train. I still need to find a compartment."

Regulus didn't let go, refusing to let his brother leave, causing the older boy to sigh, "Listen, Regulus, I'll write to you often, all right? Reg… come on, it's not like I'm leaving forever. The year'll be over before you know it."

"I can't be alone. I'm not brave like you, Sirius." The younger boy murmured into Sirius' chest.

"Yes you are," Sirius unwound Regulus' arms gently. "You'll be fine, I promise. We'll both be fine. Now go on. It's not polite to make Uncle Cygnus and Mr. Malfoy wait." He gave his ten year old brother a little push. "I'll owl you tonight after the sorting, yeah?"

"See you at Christmas, brother." Regulus gave an awkward wave before heading toward his parents. Sirius sighed, watched until the younger Black reached their family, and boarded the train with his trunk.

While outwardly he exuded a calm arrogance, inwardly his stomach was twisting with anxiety. Instead of heading toward the front of the train, where he knew his cousin Narcissa would be sitting among 'friends' he'd met at fancy dinner parties, he turned towards the back. He would have plenty of time to meet those people after the sorting, because most Slytherins would relish the chance to befriend an heir from such a powerful family. However, he wished to spend his last few hours as a normal kid with people he may actually have fun with. People that his mother would probably never let him acknowledge again.

Distracted with his musings, he didn't notice the slender boy behind him trip until it was too late. The boy, who wore glasses, fell, knocking Sirius to the floor. Unfortunately, the bespectacled boy, still unable to control his fall, landed on top of him.

"I told Mum they were too long," the thin boy muttered, scrambling to his feet, and extending his hand to help Sirius up. Sirius took it and was pulled up; the boy was much stronger than he looked. "Sorry about that," the boy apologized with a sheepish grin. "My Mum made me wear new robes today and they're a tad bit long."

The boy screamed wealth, from the aristocratic accent and features, to the rich, tailored robes he was wearing; it was impossible to miss that the boy came from high wizarding society.

"You all right?" He asked, concerned, smoothing out the wrinkles that fall had put into his robes. It was then that Sirius noticed the family crest on the robes. A golden Gryffin held a gold star on a royal blue background… the boy was a Potter. Sirius instantly made to hide his own family crest in the folds of his robe, passing off the action as sweeping imaginary dust off.

"Fine," he said shortly, carefully watching Potter for any sign of recognition.

"Excellent," the boy—no, Potter—beamed. "James Potter, pleasure to make your acquaintance." He stuck out a hand confidently. Sirius hesitated, but took it warily. Although they had been Gryffindors for centuries, the Potters were still one of the purest families and, more importantly, were socially acceptable. Despite the rivalry between Slytherins and Gryffindors, the two families at least shared a mutual respect and tolerance for the other.

"Sirius Orion, the pleasure's all mine," He responded with the appropriate reply, purposefully substituting his middle name for his last. He knew that no young Potter would spend time with a Black, and something about this boy seemed interesting. He was tall for his age and healthily slim, with messy black hair and the definite air of someone very self-assured—but he maintained a sense of mystery because of the odd twinkle in his hazel eyes.

There was a slight look of surprise from the Potter boy, but it disappeared so quickly that Sirius brushed it off as his imagination. "I have a compartment right here, if you would like to join me. I was just returning from the loo when I tripped."

Sirius nodded his assent and followed Potter to his compartment. There was nothing else in there besides Potter's belongings which included a sleek, black owl.

"Nice," Sirius said appreciatively, setting his own purebred owl next to the black one. "What's his name?"

"She's," Potter corrected, "named Arwen."

"She has a noble name," Sirius said with a smirk. Potter's jaw dropped.

"You've read Lord of the Rings?"

"My cousin gave it to me before she—" Sirius broke off, and amended, "—for my birthday." Andromeda had eloped with her mud—muggleborn—boyfriend this last summer, and Sirius had decided to give proper thanks and read the last thing his favorite cousin would ever give him.

Potter was distinctly impressed, but didn't pursue the matter as the compartment door burst open at that moment to reveal a small red-headed girl in muggle clothing. Her green eyes were wet, full to the brink with tears. "May I sit here?" She sniffed, blinking them back.

Potter jumped up and grabbed her trunk, politely, "Yeah. Let me help you with that." Sirius could see the amount of effort it took for the two to put the trunk on a rack. Obviously the girl, who was now sitting quietly by the window, had never heard of feather-weight charms. Was she a muggleborn? Or maybe, he considered her hair, a Weasley?

Neither boy spoke; the only sound was the soft sobbing of the girl in the corner.

"Reckon we should do something?" His neighbor looked uncomfortably at the miserable girl. "Only, Mum would be positively furious to know that I let a lady cry…"

"It's probably her first time away from home. She'll be fine," Sirius surmised, his voice low. His mother had similar rules when it came to dealing with ladies, but Sirius was positive that this lass wouldn't be considered anything more than filth by Walburga Black. There was a loud cracking sound, as the train slowly started moving away from the platform.

Potter ran a hand through his messy hair, ruffling it even more. "If you're sure," he shrugged, picking up the magazine "Which Broomstick" from the seat next to his.

"You play?" Sirius asked eagerly. Quidditch was one of his favorite sports, and both he and his brother spent many afternoons flying in their backyard.

"Of course," Potter smirked arrogantly. "I've been told that I take after my dad in that aspect."

It took a moment before it dawned on Sirius, "Your dad's Richard Potter? The former Magpies Beater?"

"One and the same. Why, are you a Montrose fan?" He was picking at his fingernails, seemingly blasé but for the spark in his eye.

"I only cheer for the best," Sirius gave a good natured smile, still in a little awe. Richard Potter was among Montrose's greats and had broken many records in his day. "So," he couldn't help himself, "what's he like? Your father, I mean."

"He's the best. He just retired from the ministry last year, so we've spent a great deal of time out on the pitch and at matches." Their was an impish grin on the messy haired lad's face, "He still refuses to believe that he's past his prime. Makes it all the more enjoyable the few times I out-fly him."

Sirius raised a skeptical eyebrow at the boy in front of him, who immediately toned his conceit down, "It's not very often, I admit, but it's hilarious when it does happen. He starts swearing, and of course Mum hears, so she comes out and tells him off something awful."

Sirius laughed at the mental image of an old, black haired lady shouting at the revered Beater. His reply was interrupted by a pallid, dark haired boy rushing into the compartment. Sirius' laugh immediately turned into a frown at the boy's open display of rudeness.

Potter was surveying the boy with an expression of slight disgust as well. Sirius didn't blame him; the hook-nosed boy was wearing old, second-hand robes and had long, greasy hair that hung around his sallow face. Sirius couldn't help but wonder when the boy had last taken a shower.

"So, what position do you play?" Potter asked curiously, apparently deciding that the greasy boy wasn't worth mentioning. Or perhaps he was trying to avoid interrupting the boy's comfort of the sniffling girl in the corner. Indeed, the girl was whispering back to the half-blood—for he could be nothing else—and seemed to be calming down.

"Oh, I don't play, really. I just enjoy flying." Sirius was supposed to go into a high position in the Ministry, not become a quidditch player, so he saw no point in practicing for one specific position. Regulus, on the other hand, adored the sport. "Are you a Beater like your father?"

"No. I prefer Chasing. It's—" He broke off. The greasy boy's voice had risen enthusiastically, overriding Potter's statement.

"This is it! We're off to Hogwarts!" The uncouth first year's consoling must've paid off, because the small red-head managed a weak smile.

"You'd better be in Slytherin," he encouraged, brightening at the girl's smile. Sirius quickly turned to the bespectacled boy lounging across from him, whose expression immediately closed.

"Slytherin?" He interrupted coolly. He turned to Sirius, a peculiar look in his eye even though his tone remained aghast. "Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

It took all of Sirius' will power to reply emotionlessly, "My whole family have been in Slytherin." The silent, _and so will I_, wasn't missed.

"Blimey," Potter said, not at all sounding very surprised, although he had perfected the look, "and I thought you seemed all right!"

His stomach gave a slight flop at the thought of losing the acquaintance of the young Potter. None of his friends—if you could even call them that—would have gone near him if it hadn't been his high status in the wizarding community, but Potter didn't even know and befriended him just the same. Without realizing what he was implying, he forced a grin and said quickly:

"Maybe I'll break the tradition. Where are you heading if you've got the choice?" The answer to the last question was impossible not to guess, and Potter didn't disappoint.

He lifted an invisible sword and said proudly, "'Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!' Like my dad." There was a snort in the corner by the window, and Potter turned, his eyes glittering challengingly.

"Got a problem with that?"

The greasy boy had an ugly sneer on his face. One that reminded Sirius far too much of his mother. "No. If you'd rather be brawny than brainy—"

Sirius cut in, unable to let his fellow pureblood be insulted by the likes of someone that foul, "Where're you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither?"

Potter doubled over, laughing hard as the boy's face went white.

"Come on, Severus, let's find another compartment." Both Sirius and Potter straightened up, having forgotten about the red-headed girl who was glaring at them with open dislike.

He and Potter weren't done with their fun, however, as both imitated her haughty voice, "Oooooo…" The other two first years, flushed, stood to leave.

Sirius watched as Potter stretched out a leg to trip 'Severus' as they made their way out. Not to be outdone, he called out in the most arrogant voice he could control, "See ya, Snivellus!"

The door slammed shut and he shared a glance with his partner before they simultaneously roared with laughter.

"That was brilliant," Potter managed, tears streaming down his face. Sirius beamed, his laughter preventing a reply.

It took a few minutes before they were able to sober down, but Potter didn't return to his magazine. He was instead surveying Sirius with the same odd look he'd been wearing since Sirius had entered.

"What?" He asked, a little defensive.

Potter didn't answer at first. He seemed to be pondering over how to say what he wanted to. Finally, "You're not too bad, Black."

Sirius' mouth dried. Luckily Potter was continuing, his head a little tilted as he considered the boy across him.

"No, not bad at all... In fact," he sounded surprised, "I think we'll get along handsomely. Fancy that?"

"Yeah," Sirius croaked, his throat parched.

"So, I'd like to do this the proper way." He held out a firm hand, "James Richard Potter. First Year."

This time, Sirius didn't pause. He grasped the hand, "Sirius Orion Black. First Year."

With the hand shake, Sirius felt as if he'd started down a path that would change his life, even though he knew the chances of that were ridiculously low.

"Er, so, how—"

"Did I recognize you? The crest for one," he motioned to the dog that hadn't been hidden in the folds of the robe. "And I've seen you before."

Sirius' eyebrows furrowed as he racked his memory, but he couldn't remember ever meeting Potter before.

"At St. Mungos annual Yule Ball last winter. I usually don't go, but I, er, my parents didn't trust me to stay home alone, so they forced me along. Alice—Alice Prewitt, that is—pointed you out to me. Said you were my age, and I should get to know you, but I—erm—well, you didn't exactly look the most approachable sort, especially since you were next to Lucius Malfoy, so…" He trailed off, red at admitting his cowardice.

"Lucius is a bit scary, isn't he?" Sirius agreed, shivering. The sixth year Slytherin was courting Narcissa and had been at Grimauld Place often during the summer. He took great interest in the young Black heir, during these visits, even though Sirius wanted nothing to do with the cold, ambitious man.

"So, d'you have any family at Hogwarts?" Potter asked. Sirius raised an eyebrow, and Potter joked, "Just so I know who to avoid in the corridors, you know. They won't be pleased with us becoming mates, will they?"

Sirius pondered the statement, the fact that Potter had declared his intention to become friends, completely escaping him. "I don't think they'll be displeased. Potters are, after all, as pureblood as we are. Just because you don't flaunt it in others faces…" He stopped, realizing that he was being impolite, but Potter didn't seem to mind. He was grinning.

"Right, but I'm willing to bet they'll be furious when you don't get sorted into Slytherin. My Aunt Dorea—she was a Black before marriage and more liberal than most—is pushing for _me_ to go into Slytherin. Fat chance of that ever happening, and she knows it, but it doesn't stop her."

Sirius gulped, his face paling. He still expected himself to be sorted into Slytherin like the rest of his family. He hadn't even thought about what would happen if he didn't go into the house of his ancestors.

"Oh, you haven't thought about it, have you? Sorry. I'm sure everything will turn out fine for you and your family," The bespectacled boy rushed hopefully. When that didn't work, he dug through his pockets to bring out a bar of Honeydukes' finest. "Chocolate?"

Sirius nodded. There was a snap, and a piece was put in his outstretched hand. Immediately after taking a bite, warmth swept through him. "Thanks, Potter."

"James," Potter—James—corrected instantly.

"Right, sorry. James," Sirius repeated, a smirk spreading across his handsome face. "So, tell me, _James_—"

"Stop it," the boy in question muttered angrily, his face reddening at the stress on his name.

"All right, _James_. I'll stop calling you _James_."

"You're having a right good time with this, aren't you, Black?"

"Sirius," Sirius parroted, his expression wolfish. James gave a howl of fury before jumping across the aisle onto his infuriating companion. Sirius was laughing as the two tumbled onto the floor of the compartment, neither throwing punches, but attempting to pin the other down.

"What do you think you are doing?" A voice interrupted, cold and livid. James stopped immediately, delight crossing his face. He lifted his head toward the open compartment door, pushing Sirius off so he could have a clear view.

"Jo! How nice of you to join us. May I introduce—"

'Jo' refused to let James finish, instead preferring to stalk over to him and pull him up by his collar. Sirius rolled onto his back, and sat up to find a tall blond girl, no older than himself, brushing dust off James' robes and checking over him carefully, all the while looking furious.

"Come off it, Josie, it was just a bit of fun. I'm fine. Really," he added as she shot him an unbelieving glare.

She stepped back, crossing her arms. "Are you? Then explain to me how you could be so rude to a little, first year, _muggleborn_ girl? Honestly, James, do you know what kind of impression you left on her of the magical world?"

James blushed, looking down at his feet, "Oh."

"That's right. And she comes into my compartment, complaining about an arrogant toerag and wishing she could go back home. It's her first time alone in the wizarding world, and you—"

"Jo," James placated, his hands up in a surrendering motion, "I'm sorry, all right. We weren't trying to be evil gits to _her_, it was that Snivellus bloke. He started insulting us. I couldn't help it."

Her features softened, "Yeah, Snape leaves much to be desired. I honestly don't know what she sees in him. He's awfully impolite and even Alice reckons that there's something creepy about him."

"So you can understand why—" James attempted, but was cut off again.

"No, I really can't. I know you were raised better than that."

"Merlin, Jo, you sound like Mum!" The blond girl let out a giggle before masking her amusement with the stern look she had on before. "I'll apologize to her next time I see her."

"And Snape?"

"Don't push it, Ollerton," he growled. "Snivellus—"

"Severus!"

"—had it coming, didn't he Sirius?" Sirius head snapped, startled at being added into this conversation. The girl, 'Jo', however, took one look at him before shrieking at James:

"A Black? You're sitting with a Black? No wonder she wanted to leave, he must have been absolutely horrid to her." She gave him a scathing glower; as if it were his fault he and James were sharing a compartment.

James frowned, his stance mirroring hers, "You have the nerve to come and lecture me for having beastly behavior when you're acting like this? And what's wrong with sitting with a Black?"

"Seriously, James? Everyone knows they're a dark lot—"

"Harold and Alice are Blacks—"

"From their mothers' side," she interjected.

"From his father's," James countered. Sirius didn't think it would have been helpful to correct him—both of his parents were Blacks. "And who are you to judge someone by their family? Next thing you know, you'll refuse to associate with muggleborns—"

"It's different," she hissed.

"It's not. Besides, the entire thing was my fault. Sirius didn't say two words." If Sirius hadn't known it was a lie, he would have believed James' outwardly guileless words. James seemed to get the signal he was looking for because after a moment, he smiled and pulled Sirius up.

"Sirius, may I introduce my, er, cousin Josephine Ollerton—I think we're actually something to the effect of second cousins once removed, but I'm not exactly sure." He shrugged, while the girl gave a smooth, but mocking, curtsey, which caused James, in turn, to laugh, "It looks even more ridiculous without the dress robes, doesn't it?"

"You wouldn't be laughing if your mum made you practice this for a week," she said through clenched teeth.

"Probably not," he admitted, before making a straight face and continuing, "And this is Sirius Black, heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, and an all around decent bloke." Sirius bowed slightly, lifting her hand to his mouth, like a proper gentleman.

"What is this, training for one of those infernal Ministry balls?" Josephine cried out, snatching her hand back after. "Sorry," she said to him. "You must think me mental, but I loath all those bloody formalities. And call me Josie. I don't know what my parents were thinking giving me such a long name."

"Merlin, Jo, where are you learning your language from?" To say James was impressed was an understatement.

"Your dad, actually. He often stops by to play quidditch with mine, and you know that sort of language they use. Mum's just about given up."

"Figures Dad would go to your place. Mum's threatened to take away his broom if she so much as hears another curse out of his mouth," James said grumpily, sitting back down. "Are you going back to Alice?"

She giggled, "I don't think Alice'll be there much longer." She leaned forward, as if conspiring with her partner in crime, "I think she has a boyfriend. She definitely fancies him, at any rate."

"Who is it?"

"Frank Longbottom. He stopped by to chat when I was leaving, but I reckon it was more than that."

"Madam Vulture's son?" He ducked a swat from his cousin.

"Just because you think that hat odd—and I know it isn't normal to have a stuffed vulture sitting on your head—it _still_ doesn't mean you have to make fun of it all the time," she huffed. "I'd better be off. I only came to pick up Lily's trunk so she could change into her robes. Why don't you help bring it back to my compartment? You can apologize to her and get it over with."

James grumbled, but one pout and his cousin's beautiful blue eyes silenced it, and he obeyed, lugging the heavy trunk behind him. "I'll be back soon, Sirius."

Sirius was almost glad James had left. He needed some privacy so he could wrap his head around what had just happened. Nothing was going as he'd imagined it would. To be fair, friendship with a Potter hadn't even crossed his mind as a possibility, but that wasn't the issue. The problem was that he was starting to like James. And while he had sounded sure that his parents wouldn't mind a friendship with James, he knew that if it meant Sirius wouldn't be sorted into Slytherin his parents would discourage it.

And then came the question, did he want to go into Slytherin? Or would he rather be mates with James? The two were incompatible, Sirius knew. And frighteningly enough, Sirius found himself leaning toward the second of the two. He had never had a friend who liked him for his personality instead of his wealth and blood. He had never had friend who would defend him as James did against his cousin, even though the two barely knew each other. And he found himself enjoying the strange friendship between him and James. So much so that he was afraid of losing it.

"There you are," a deep, masculine voice sneered from the doorway, startling Sirius. "Cissy, I've found him." The voice called down the corridor.

Sirius knew that voice, so he wasn't surprised to see the tall, blond Slytherin prefect. "Lucius," he greeted.

"What're you doing here, Sirius?" Another blond head poked into the compartment. "Aunt Walburga said you'd sit with us so that we could introduce you to some other first years."

"So I could meet more of those pureblood bigots who only want to befriend me for my connections. Quite fun, that," Sirius muttered sarcastically.

Narcissa's gray eyes narrowed and she entered the compartment, taking James' empty seat. "Lucius, close the door behind you.

"Now listen here, cousin. I know our family has been a bit easy—" Sirius snorted "—on you, because you are the heir, but this liberal behavior needs to end. Once you are sorted into Slytherin, you _will_ act as befitting of someone of your position," She hissed.

Lucius put a hand on hers, taking over. "I leave next year, and once I do, you'll be the highest ranking pureblood in the House. As such, you will already have a lot of status, but you also will have the potential to have much more. You know as well as I that your life at Hogwarts will be a continuous game of power and influence. You must make good choices."

Narcissa stood imperiously. "Come along. There are several other students whom I would like you to meet—"

The compartment opened again to reveal James who looked shocked to see Lucius and Narcissa in their compartment. He schooled his expression back to one of complete ease and drawled smoothly, "Am I interrupting something, Sirius?"

"S'all right. They were just leaving, weren't you, cousin?"

"A Potter, Sirius?" Narcissa scoffed, "Really, I expected better."

"Tell me, Lucius, who is your _delightful_ friend? I don't believe we've met," James said, his tone extremely polite, but his hazel eyes frigid.

Lucius sighed, saying quickly, "Cissy, may I introduce to you James Potter, _heir_ to the House of Potter." James gave a short bow, his eyes constantly on hers. "James, this is Narcissa Black, my girlfriend."

"An honor to meet you, Miss Black."

"The honor's all mine," she gave the customary reply coldly, spinning on her heel and marching off. Lucius started to follow, before turning back.

"It's a game, Sirius. Don't lose." With those words hanging in the air, he left, slamming the compartment shut behind him.

James slumped into his seat, "Merlin, and I thought Lucius was unapproachable. Your cousin—marvelous lady, I must say—looked ready to curse me."

"She still might," Sirius said, dryly. "You've made yourself a powerful enemy."

He shrugged carelessly, "We'd have been enemies in any case, what with me being the upcoming Gryffindor star and her being the Slytherin Queen. At least this way I've made myself a friend as well."

Sirius ignored the stab of guilt he felt when James talked of their friendship as if it were an assured relationship, "You're incredibly confident, Potter. What happens if you're not?"

"Why worry about something that's never going to happen?" He smirked conceitedly.

_Why indeed,_ Sirius wondered, hoping that this friendship wasn't one of those impossibilities.

"Worrying is a waste of time, Sirius. I try to put my time to better uses. So, what did Malfoy mean when he said—"

"It was nothing. Just pureblood rubbish," Sirius dismissed, casually changing the subject. "Did you end up apologizing to Snivellus?"

"No. He had gone to get his own trunk when I got there. But that Evans girl—she's the one from earlier—has a fiery attitude, I tell you. Suppose I should've expected it from her hair, but honestly… She went on and on about how much of an arrogant toerag I had been to her darling Snivellus and how I should feel ashamed of myself. I don't believe I've met a more self righteous person… At any rate, Jo's happy, so she'll be off my tail for at least a few days."

"Why'd you do it? Snivellus was a git and the mud—muggleborn wasn't much better," Sirius cursed at his slipup. How long was it going to take for him to get rid of that nasty habit? If James noticed, he didn't mention it.

"Oh, I can't really say no to Josie. We grew up together, and since she's a month younger, I've always let her get her way." He shrugged. "I don't really mind. Even if she does have me wrapped around her finger, it's worth it."

Sirius still didn't understand. He'd never loved someone enough to sacrifice his own pride to see them happy. Even with Regulus, the relationship was sometimes distant, especially during the times Sirius had fought with his parents. And in any argument between the brothers, Regulus always deferred to his elder brother, so Sirius never had to.

James had returned to his magazine, reading an article with interest. Sirius, not wanting to interrupt, leaned back into his seat, closing his eyes and enjoying the peacefulness. Without meaning to, he fell asleep

A loud bang woke him, what must have been hours later because the sky had turned black. James was standing, his robes covered in soot, the remains of a firework at his feet. Not even concerned with his predicament, he grinned, "Good, I was about to wake you. We're less than half an hour from Hogsmead station."

"What's that?" Sirius motioned to the firework on the ground, still a little drowsy.

"Old Filibuster's? Accidently set it off while I was reaching for my school robes. We're supposed to change." James didn't seem keen on switching out of the comfortable ones he was wearing and muttered complaints whilst the two changed.

"You have a little dirt on your nose," Sirius smirked, rubbing his own as if to show him.

"Shut up, Black."

"Sirius."

James marched up to Sirius, their noses a centimeter away. "Merlin help me, if you ever bring that up again—" he paused, thinking of a suitable threat.

"You'll breathe on me?" Sirius stepped back. "Forgive me for not being terribly frightened."

"I suppose I had it coming… befriending a Black," James muttered dryly. "Now I know why my family's stayed so far away from yours! We're insufferable together."

"Hogwarts is up for a ride, if we're to spend the next seven years together," Sirius agreed. Somewhere, during the journey, Sirius had lost all doubts that he wouldn't be sorted with James.

James had perceived that, "Gryffindor finally good enough for you?"

"Gryffindor? No, I thought you were going to join me in Slytherin," Sirius let out a bark of laughter at the horror on James' face.

"That's a sorry joke, mate."

The constant chugging of the train slowed and both boys rushed to the window at the announcement, "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be brought separately."

"Hogsmead." James noted the buildings they passed.

"You've been here before?"

"A few times. You?"

"Not for ages. Pity we won't be allowed to go until third year."

James' eyes gleamed, "Pity, indeed."

The train stopped, and the corridors filled with students as they all hurried to exit onto the platform.

"Firs' years!" A man boomed. "Firs' years over here."

"Where?" Sirius asked, shivering slightly in the breezy air.

"Dunno," James mutter, craning his neck to see over the bustling students. His eyes focused on a lamp on the far edge of the platform that was moving over the students. He pointed it out to Sirius, and the two made their way over, pushing through the taller students to where the voice was calling for first years.

James stopped suddenly, causing Sirius to run right into him. The two stumbled forward.

"What?" Sirius scowled, annoyed.

"Blimey, he's got to be the largest man I've ever seen!" Without waiting for Sirius, he rushed forward to get closer to whatever had shocked him. As Sirius neared, he caught a glimpse of the man, who was at least twice the size of the average person and heard James ask in wonder:

"Are you a giant?"

The man gave a weak chuckle, "'Course not. Where'd yeh get that idea from?"

James shrugged, sticking out a hand bravely, "James Potter, sir."

A smile spread across the giant's face. "Rubeus Hagrid. Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

"It's a delight to meet you, Mr. Hagrid," James said, his face solemn.

The giant let out a roar of laughter, "Just Hagrid, James. Firs' Years! Everyone here?"

Sirius finally appeared by James' shoulder, marveling at James' speed, when the enormous man started to move.

"Follow me! Firs' years, mind yer step!" He called over his shoulder leading the group of nervous children down a dark, steep path. "Careful! C'mon, jus' round this bend here… ah."

Hagrid moved to the side and the crowd was filled with gasps. The path had led to the edge of a massive, black lake and perched atop the high mountain on the other side was a colossal castle with glimmering windows and turrets and towers.

"In ter the boats, now. No more'n four." Hagrid ordered, motioning to the small fleet sitting by the shore. James and Sirius scrambled into one with a two brunette girls. Hagrid checked to make sure everyone was in a boat, before shouting, "Forward!"

They lurched forward, gliding over the lake smoothly. All of the students sat, agape at the magnitude of their new home, with the exception of James, who, with a thoughtful look, leaned to one side, tipping the boat. The brunettes shrieked, and Sirius was forced to grab both sides to maintain his balance. Smirking, James leaned the other way. A scream escaped from one of the girls, as she nearly fell into the lake.

"Stop that," Sirius hissed, ducking his head as Hagrid's glance passed over the boats to see what happened.

"If you insist." James didn't seem particularly bothered with the girls' reaction. He nodded to the two brunettes, "My apologies."

They ducked as the boats passed through a curtain of ivy, and were carried through a dark tunnel until the boat was stopped at some underground harbor. The children follow the path of gravel and pebbles to a flight of stone steps that led to a huge, wooden front door.

"Everyone ready?" Hagrid's giant fists knocked three times.

The doors swung open immediately, as if waiting for the signal. A sharp, stiff lady awaited them. "Professor McGonagall," Hagrid sounded surprised. "Where's Professor Slughorn?"

"He's feeling ill." She responded shortly. "I will take them from here, Hagrid."

She led them through the giant entrance hall, past large, double doors that muffled noises, and into a small chamber. "Wait here. I'll go see if they're ready for you."

The moment she left, whispers permeated the room all along of the lines of, "How do they sort us."

Theories were thrown out into discussion, most involving tests, some with trolls, and even others insisted upon dragons. Needless to say, a few kids looked green.

"They're ridiculous," Sirius murmured. "As if the Board of Governors would allow such a thing."

"Do you know?"

"Why? Scared, are we?"

"'Course not. Just curious."

"My cousins told me ages ago." He paused for dramatic effect. "They use a hat."

"What!" James' exclamation quieted the room again, as all the first years turned to look at him. He scowled at them, preparing to say something, but the doors opened to allow Professor McGonagall back in.

"Good evening, students. I am Professor McGonagall, the Transfiguration Professor and head of Gryffindor house. Now, once you enter the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses—Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Slytherin. The house you are appointed to, will be something like your Hogwarts family. You will spend most of your time with your house, whether it's in class, sleeping, or in your house common room.

"At the end of the year, a House Cup will be awarded to the house with the most points. You may earn your house points by any achievements inside and out of class. All wrongdoings, on the other hand, will lose your house points.

"I wish you all the best of luck. Come along."

They followed the Professor, forming a straight line as they walked across the hall and through the double doors. The Great Hall was splendidly lit with thousands of candles floating over four long tables. Ghosts were floating randomly around the hall, watching the first years pass through with a look of excitement. At the very front of the hall, was another long table where the teachers sat, and in the center, on a high backed chair sat Albus Dumbledore.

Sirius had heard a lot about Dumbledore, none of which was very complimentary. According to his family, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had an unfortunate fondness of pushing through legislation which granted more rights to 'inferior' beings such as half-breeds and muggleborns. However, even the Blacks agreed that the man was the most brilliant wizard of his time.

Professor McGonagall stopped in the front, where a four legged stool stood, covered with an old, patched hat. Sirius bit his tongue to keep from laughing. _This_ was the infamous Sorting Hat? Merlin.

The rip near the hat's brim opened wide, and after a small twitch, it sung:

"_Climb up upon the stool,  
Pull me down around your ears;  
I'll reveal the new beginning  
Of your magical careers.  
And as you disperse to Houses  
Where your new friends welcome you,  
Keep in mind the world is looking  
For a new beginning too.  
For each House to play a part  
In the rebuilding that's ahead,  
You must all resist the follies  
That have left so many dead.  
Clever Ravenclaws: remember,  
As your education starts,  
All your knowledge comes to nothing  
If you fail to use your hearts.  
Faithful Hufflepuffs, take heed:  
While it is noble to be true,  
You must keep your eyes wide open;  
Know the ones your loyal to.  
Cunning Slytherins, be watchful:  
Your ambition won't come free;  
Those who claim the greatest power  
Should claim responsibility.  
Valiant Gryffindors: though battle  
Has a time and place that's right,  
There are times when even warriors  
Must make peace without a fight.  
As you go to forge your futures  
Please remember what has passed,  
Or the peace your parents fought for  
Will not be a peace that lasts.  
Work together, help each other,  
Banish thoughts of laying blame;  
Though your banners may be diff'rent,  
Deep inside you're much the same."_

The hall burst into an enthusiastic applause once the hat finished.

"Well," James muttered dryly from behind him, "_this_ is anticlimactic. We've just got to try on a hat."

The female Professor, carrying a long role of parchment, stepped to the forefront. "I will call your name in alphabetical order. When I call yours, you will come, put that hat on and be sorted. Aesalon, Demetri!"

A pale, dark haired boy strode up to the stool quite confidently. James stopped fidgeting with his robes, to watch. After a few moments wait, the hat shouted, to James' obvious disappointment, "SLYTHERIN!"

The table on the far right clapped as Demetri went to join them.

"Avery, Norman."

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Bagman, Otto."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

_Why couldn't I have been a Zabini,_ was Sirius' last thought before he heard, "Black, Sirius."

James squeezed his arm, and whispered, "Good luck, mate," as Sirius stepped up to the stool, his back straight and confident, never betraying how nervous he actually was, and pulled the hat onto his head.

"Another Black? Well, this shouldn't be diff—hmm, interesting." The hat mused into his ear. "Very interesting. Extremely intelligent, but not much of a work ethic, I see. Pity… you have one of the brightest minds I've seen in ages."

_I'm not going to Ravenclaw, _Sirius growled in his head. He knew exactly how the sorting hat worked.

"No, you wouldn't do well there," the hat agreed, solemnly. "No. But there's cunning—oh yes—you've used it to get out of a lot of sticky situations with your parents, haven't you? And ambition—an endless thirst to prove that you're your own person. You'd do well in Slytherin… But you're obviously very brave. It takes an immense amount of courage to stand up to family."

_You don't mind rushing this along, do you? _Sirius projected the bored thought. _Really, not that I don't find your analysis of my personality absolutely fascinating, but there are loads of students you still need to sort._

"Impertinent, too! And stubborn to a fault. Well, there really is only one place for _that_—GRYFFINDOR!"

The hat bellowed the house name to the entire hall. A long pause of silence followed, before the table to the far left burst into a polite, yet confused, applause. Sirius trotted over to the table, and sat in it, his eyes finding James. The messy haired boy's grin stretched across his entire face, and Sirius sent him a proud thumbs up, which was immediately returned.

So elated was Sirius, that he didn't stopped paying attention to the sorting until the red haired girl from the train came to sit next him. He offered her a happy grin, but she, recognizing him, turned away in a huff. Sirius shrugged, not caring. He was in the same house as James. He wouldn't have to deal with his cousin and her obnoxious friends every moment of every day.

He was joined by several more children, including Josie, before James' turn arrived. Sirius watched intently, as James was declared a Gryffindor before the hat was even fully placed on his head.

"I knew it," James said, clapping Sirius on the back, as he slid onto the bench. "Didn't I tell you you'd be in Gryffindor?"

"Yeah, Black," Josie congratulated from the opposite side of the table. "Excellent. My cousin was right about you."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Sirius grinned at the girl.

"It was meant as one."

The pretty red-head—Evans?—turned and hushed them, "Some of us are _trying_ to pay attention."

Sirius pulled a face, but faced the front in time to see Snivellus sorted into Slytherin. He scowled when Lucius patted the lad on the back, wondering how the arrogant pureblood could bring himself to have anything to do with someone that greasy.

The new Gryffindors quietly waited for the last dozen kids to be sorted. At last, when the last child had taken his seat, Professor Dumbledore stood. "Thank you Professor McGonagall." He addressed the rest of the students, "I'm sure all of you are starving, so my start-of-term announcements shall wait until after the feast. Tuck in!"

The empty golden plates that lined the center of the table were suddenly filled with every dish imaginable and Sirius didn't hesitate to dig in. The meal was delicious.

A gasp from the red head to his left forced him to look away from his food. The plate of potatoes was now occupied by the head bright, silver ghost was smile at them. "New Gryffindors, eh?"

"Are you a—a ghost?" She stuttered, leaning as far back from the table as she good.

"Yes, young miss. Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington, resident ghost of Gryffindor house, at your service."

Evans opened her mouth, but nothing came out, so she quickly shut it again, blushing. Trying to save her some pride, Sirius jumped into the conversation, introducing himself. "Sirius Black."

A snort from another new Gryffindor made Sirius pause in his introduction. Both James and Josie's conversation stopped, the two cousins turning to see what was going to happen.

Sirius echoed James' words to Snape, "Got a problem with that?"

"No, I was just wondering what you were doing here." The brunette said derisively. "Everyone knows that Blacks go to Slytherins."

"That's interesting, because I'm obviously not there. Unless you mean to suggest I'm not a Black…" Sirius let the words hang threateningly, his gray eyes frigid.

"I just didn't think Slytherins would sink low enough to send a spy."

"Sirius isn't a spy," James snarled, obviously having enough of the boy's cheek.

"And who are you?" The boy asked snidely.

"James _Potter_. My family's been in Gryffindor since the beginning of this school."

"At any rate, Sirius is more of a Gryffindor than _you _are," Josie added angrily. "What kind of Gryffindor belittles one of their own? You can't honestly imagine that the Slytherins are going to be very fond of him after this. And instead of helping him, you're going to join them in teasing him?"

The boy's face colored red at being told off by a girl. He opened his mouth to retort but James cut in, his expression dangerous.

"Watch what you say to my cousin." His wand was twirling in his hand. "My fingers have been itching to try some of the hexes I read about."

Whether or not James actually knew how to cast hexes wasn't questioned by the boy. He paled, and turned to talk with another of his companions. At that, the three Gryffindors relaxed.

"Thanks," Sirius said gratefully.

James looked at him, bemused. "For what? The kid was an absolute prat."

"'Sides it was the least I could do after what I said to you in the train," Josie inserted apologetically.

Sirius waved it off, filling his plate with some of the delicious chocolate pastries in front of him. He hadn't noticed Dumbledore getting to his feet, until the esteemed Headmaster began to speak.

"Welcome to a new year! Now that you are all fed, I must ask for your attention, while I address a few start-of-term notices. I would like to remind you that the forest on the grounds is, as its name suggests, forbidden, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all students below third year."

He paused, surveying the populace with a heavy glance, "I'm pleased to announce that our grounds have received an addition in the form of a very rare plant called the Womping Willow. Unfortunately, the Willow is not fond of people, so I urge all of you to display caution when walking near it.

"Mr. Pringle, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that magic is not allowed in the corridors and that the list of the one hundred and seventy-four objects prohibited inside this castle may be viewed in his office.

"Quidditch trials will be held the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house team should either contact Madam Sykes or their team captain. And now, before I send you off to bed, let us sing the school song!" The teachers' smiles immediately faded.

A long ribbon flew out of his wand and twisted itself into words. Professor Dumbledore waved his wand like a conductor's baton and counted down, "three, two, one," and the entire school bellowed:

"_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something please,_

_Whether we be old and bold_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff,_

_For now they're bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing,_

_Bring back what we've forgot,_

_Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot."_

Everyone ended at different times, and once the school had finished, everyone burst our clapping. Professor Dumbledore beamed, his bright, blue eyes moist, "Excellent. Now off you go. First years, follow your fifth year prefects."

The Gryffindor first years followed Alice Prewett, and her male partner, who introduced himself as Frank Longbottom, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Sirius felt exhausted, and he could barely keep up, without gasping in awe at the paintings and passages the prefects were leading him through. He yawned loudly, accidently running into James who had halted suddenly. They were in front of a large portrait of a very large woman in a silly, pink dress.

"Password?" she said.

Alice turned back to the eleven year olds. "The Fat Lady guards the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. In order to get past her, you must give her the password. This month's password is Butterbeer."

The portrait swung open to reveal a round hole in the wall, which the new Gryffindors scrambled through. They found themselves in what must have been the Gryffindor Common Room, a round, cozy room filled with the house colors and comfortable armchairs.

Alice led the girls up a staircase across from the one Frank led the boys. He stopped at the first landing of the spiral staircase. "These are the boys' dormitories. Your rooms are at the very top of the tower." He paused, "Since there are eight of you, you are to split into two rooms of four. Alice and I shall meet you tomorrow morning to take you to breakfast."

At the top of the spiral staircase, the boys split. The rude brunette from the feast took a group of three of his friends—they'd apparently met on the train—into the room on the left, leaving Sirius, James, a chubby blond, and a tall, sandy haired boy for the one of the right. Their trunks appeared at the ends of each four-poster bed, the moment they entered, and Sirius, too tired to even change, fell into bed.

James, on the other hand, was still bouncing with energy. "Did you see all those secret passageways Alice and Frank led us through?" He questioned while he pulled on his pajamas. "I bet they're loads more! I'm going to be the first to find them all!"

Sirius grunted through his bed hangings, "Go to sleep, Potter," before taking his own advise and doing so.

Early the next morning, Sirius' hangings were thrown open to allow rays of sunlight to stream in.

"Good morning!" An annoying voice called cheerfully.

Sirius cracked open an eye before closing it again and groaned weakly, "Go away, James."

"C'mon, mate. It's seven in the morning, and you're not even showered yet! I want to go explore!"

Sirius said hoarsely, his voice rising with every word. "It's seven in the morning. You bloody come and wake me up at seven. In. The. Morning!"

"Yes," James said simply, pulling off the blankets. "Now come on!"

"Just my luck… He has to be a _morning_ person!" But Sirius listened, heading toward the bathroom where he was soon joined by his sandy haired roommate. "James got to you too?"

"Heard him trying to wake you up," he said, not looking at him. Sirius nodded and headed to one of the shower stalls. The two finished at the same time and left to see James sitting on his bed, his feet dangling off the edges.

"You're ready too?" He glanced at the other tall boy. "Brilliant! Want to come?"

He shrugged, which James took to mean yes and stuck out his hand, "James Potter. And this is Sirius Black."

"Remus Lupin," The boy muttered, shaking it.

"I know," James said knowledgably. "I recognize you from the sorting. Reckon we should wake Pettigrew up?" He motioned to the fourth bed, where a lump still slept. Sirius looked at Remus, who shrugged again.

James skipped over to the last bed, untying the hangings. "Pettigrew," he said loudly, shaking the boy whose only response was to roll over. "Er, Pettigrew? Pippen? No that's not right… Er, Peter, that's it… Peter! Peter Pettigrew!"

The boy moaned, before opening his small, beady blue eyes, nervously. James stepped back, "Sorry… We noticed you hadn't set an alarm, so we thought we'd wake you before we left."

_He hadn't set an alarm_? Sirius checked the side table and saw that James' words were true. What kind of boy notices those kinds of things?

Peter Pettigrew sprang up, "Am I late?"

"No," James reassured quickly. "We just wanted an early start. Frank and Alice—the prefects from last night—said they'd meet you in the Common Room at eight to take you to breakfast."

"All right." The boy was uncomfortable; unsure of what to make of the energetic, outgoing James Potter.

"I'm James, by the way. James Potter. And that's Sirius Black and Remus Lupin." James continued, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. "Care to join us? We're off to explore the castle."

Remus blinked, surprised, and Sirius hid a grin.

"Er, maybe tomorrow," Peter said, looking frightened. He obviously had no intention of getting lost on the first day of school.

"Sure," James smiled, turning to leave. "C'mon lads."

For a boy who was at least an inch shorter than both Sirius and Remus, he walked extremely fast. In fact, Sirius couldn't take his eye of the boys back for fear of missing a turn or a slip behind a portrait or tapestry.

"James," Sirius called after, panting slightly. "Where are we going?"

"Caretaker's office," he replied shortly.

A pause, then, "why?"

"I want to see the list."

"What list?"

"The list of items banned from the school."

"Why?"

James stopped, letting the two boys catch their breath, "Loads of reasons. I need to know what I should keep hidden and what's not on the list. And I'm hoping it'll give me ideas."

"For what?"

He looked exasperated, "pranks, of course." He set off, yelling, "Keep up, will you?"

"Is he always like this?" Remus inquired, a little overwhelmed.

"James? He's different, isn't he?"

"I can honestly say that I've never met someone like him before." Remus glanced at Sirius, shyly, hoping he hadn't insulted the pureblood, but Sirius laughed.

"No, I can't imagine more than one James running round the world. It'd be a disaster in the making. Hey, mate," Sirius shouted to the raven-haired boy leading them. "Do you have any idea where you're going?"

"Alice told me it was on the ground floor next to some painting of a battlefield." James said, walking down the marble stairs that led to the Entrance Hall.

"Merlin," Sirius breathed in awe, "how'd you find your way down here?"

"_I_ paid attention yesterday when they brought us up," James said sarcastically. "Now, this is obviously the ground floor… left or right, Remus?"

"Sorry," Remus looked up, his amber eyes startled at being asked to give an opinion. "Er, left, I suppose."

James strode off in the direction chosen, leaving the other two to roll and their eyes and follow.

"Battlefield, battlefield," James muttered, peering at all the portraits lining the wall. "Ah, battlefield… Nice job, Remus."

"You found it?" Sirius had his hands on his knees, winded.

"Yeah." James looked at the door next to the painting, giving a low whistle. "Godric, this thing's long." He knocked on the door loudly.

"What are you doing?" Sirius hissed, pulling the hand back.

"Asking him—" the door swung open. An old man, with yellowed teeth stepped out, peering at the three first years.

"Hello, sir," James said politely. "I was just wondering if you had an extra copy of that list. I don't think I'll remember everything on it, and I want to make sure I didn't accidently bring anything to school I wasn't supposed to."

He sounded so earnest and smooth, that it was impossible to not trust him. The caretaker smiled, showing a missing bottom tooth, and grabbed a role of parchment from something next to the door.

"Here you are, lad," He rasped, handing it to James, who beamed back.

"Thank you, sir." The door closed, and the three boys headed back for the entrance hall. "Can you believe he has spare lists? I mean, honestly, who does he expect to actually want one of these?"

"You did."

"Not for the reason _this_ was meant for." James abruptly changed the subject, "Breakfast, anyone? I'm starving!"

He led them back into the entrance hall, where students were now moving into the Great Hall in groups of twos and threes. They sat in the same spot from the night before, waving over Peter once Alice and Frank brought down the rest of the first years.

"Hullo, Peter," James greeted warmly. He offered the plate of eggs, "Breakfast?"

The blond haired boy assented, eagerly piling food onto his plate. Meanwhile, James, who had finished, was pouring over the list.

"I can't believe he hasn't put fireworks on the list yet," he muttered excitedly. "Has no one in this school pulled a half-way decent prank before? And here I was expecting some sort of record or legacy we'd have to match. Shame, isn't it?"

"What's a shame, Mr. Potter?" A sharp voice asked from behind him.

James turned swiftly, lying easily, "That the marmalade's finished, Professor."

"Yes, a real shame," the tall teacher responded dryly. She was dressed in emerald green robes, with a pointed hat of the same color covering her black hair, which had been put up into a tight bun. Combined with her sharp, square spectacles, the ensemble reflected a woman who was not crossed lightly. "Your timetables."

She held out pieces of parchment, reading off their names, "Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, Mr. Pettigrew," a pause and a significant glance, "Mr. Lupin."

Sirius caught the look—was that _pity_?—and Remus seemed to have realized it too, because he took it with a curt, displeased, "thank you."

"Transfiguration, first." Peter said, breaking the tension. "And History of Magic this afternoon."

The Prefects, sixth years this time, rounded up the first years and led them back up to the tower, so that they could retrieve their bags and books, and finally to the Transfiguration classroom.

McGonagall swept in, giving a short lecture about how Transfiguration was a precise art that would require concentration and practice and that she would tolerate anyone fooling around in her class. After a quick lesson on the spell that would allow students to turn matches into needles, she handed out matches to each student and ordered them to try it.

Although Sirius knew the theory behind a match, and how it worked, he'd never seen one in action before. His parents always used 'incendio,' so matches had never been necessary. It seemed as if James was in the same boat; he was fascinated with the muggle device.

"Reckon we can find any flint?" James asked, attempting, unsuccessfully, to light the match off the desk. He answered his own question, "not likely…" he turned the match over in his hand, examining it, before touching his wand to the tip and muttering, "incendio."

While the flame that flowed out of the wand was little more than a small spark, the match lit on fire immediately, close enough to James' hand that he reflexively dropped it. They both swore, as James stomped the small fire out.

"Oops."

"Perhaps, Mr. Potter would like to demonstrate his transfiguration for the class. Considering he has time to fool around with other spells, I expect he must've already mastered this one."

"With pleasure, Professor." James sauntered to the front of the classroom, shooting a hidden grimace towards Sirius. He held out the remains of the destroyed match, "Er, could I get a different one."

James made a confident stab with his wand, his voice loud and clear, "Agujius."

The entire class stood amazed. Even James had his mouth hanging. It was not a perfect transformation, the bottom was still metallic wood color, but the tip of the match was completely silver and pointed.

"A point to Gryffindor," Professor McGonagall declared, stunned.

James nodded, closed his mouth, and returned to his seat.

"Merlin, mate, that was _brilliant_!"

"Yeah," James said, still shocked that it had happened. "That shouldn't have… I mean, sure, I had read the theory behind it and pronounced the incantation a few times, but—"

Remus interjected from the table behind. "You read the theory?"

"I read the entire transfiguration book over the summer. Actually, I've read all of our textbooks already, but—"

"_All_ of them," Remus looked at the messy haired boy appraisingly, as if his first impression of him had been entirely incorrect.

"Yes. So I could spend minimal time on homework and more time enjoying myself." James waved an impatient hand, "the point being, even though I know the theory by heart, I still shouldn't have managed it on my first try."

"What kind of wand do you have?" Sirius asked, his brain racing ahead.

"Sorry?"

"When Ollivander gave me my wand, he said it was more attuned for hexes and defensive spells. Did he say anything about yours?"

James racked his brain, "mahogany, eleven inches, black unicorn tail hair, and, er, he told me it was excellent for transfiguration." A pause, then, "Oh."

"For someone who just successfully pulled off the spell in one go, you're a bit dim," Sirius said sarcastically, placing his match on the desk. "Agujius."

The match turned silver, although the tip didn't change from the usual round end.

"You didn't concentrate." James scolded. "The key to transfiguration is visualization. You have to picture the needle in your head. Oh, and the wand movement's a little more of a jab. Sort of like a poke."

Sirius demonstrated, receiving James' nod of approval, "exactly."

"Agujius," he pronounced clearly and the tip instantly sharpened into a point.

"It's better than yours, Potter," Sirius admired arrogantly.

"One try," James reminded with a smirk. "_Without_ any help."

"Is that so?" And for the rest of the day's classes, the two tried to outdo each other, which they soon realized to be almost impossible. Easily the best in their year in most of the subjects, they were, unfortunately, evenly matched at every subject.

They returned to their dormitories after classes had ended that afternoon, complaining.

"An essay on the first day of school? Is McGonagall mad?" Sirius grumbled, throwing his bag on the bed. "And Binns' assignment on the Goblin revolts! An entire chapter… What are you doing, James?"

The messy haired boy had the transfiguration text book on his lap, parchment on it and quill in hand. "Homework."

"What? It's not due for two days!"

James leveled Sirius with a blank look, "I'm not leaving it for the last minute. The sooner we get this done, the longer we'll be able to explore. I want to check that hallway the Ravenclaws turned into. I reckon their common room is down there."

"Why are you doing this?" Remus finally asked, curiosity overwhelming him. "Exploring the school, I mean."

"I suppose I'll need to tell me, if I expect you to help," James put aside the book, inviting the other three boys to sit. "I didn't come to school to learn. I can do that well enough at home. You've noticed how many secrets this place has? Well, that's why I came. To be a legend—as famous as the founders—the person first to discover them all."

The certainty in his voice prompted Sirius to burst into laughter.

"What?" James asked defensively.

"No, I'm just wondering how the sorting hat missed all that ambition," he said between laughs, tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry," he hiccupped. "Go on."

"Will you help?"

"As long as you promise that our first prank'll be on the Slytherins."

James appeared to consider it. "Reckon your cousin's going to mind?"

"More than a little."

"Deal. Remus?"

The shy boy hesitated for a moment and then grinned at being included, "I'm mad. I must be mental. There's no way a sane bloke would go along with this."

"Brill... Pete?"

The chubby boy agreed eagerly.

And that was it. The three boys returned to their own beds and started their homework, and for a while the room was filled with the sounds of quills scratching on parchment. Then James mused conversationally, not even turning away from his essay:

"We'll need a name."

Peter, Remus, and Sirius looked up from their parchment to share the exasperated look that would become so familiar in anyone dealing with the young Potter heir.

**A/N I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to do with this story. It will probably be a composition of long one-shots, scenes showing the relationship of these two boys who became so much more than friends. I don't know if it will follow any particular timeline, because I don't think I'll be writing the scenes in order from first year to death. What will most likely end up happening is I'll publish one-shots as they come up to me, and organize them later. I'm extremely sorry for being so vague about this. Once I have more of a plan, I'll be sure to let you know. **

**The story "Did you?" will be added to this once I get to that point in the timeline.**

**In the meantime, I'd like to thank all of you for reading this, and if you have any comments or criticism about my portrayal of any of these characters, please say so in your review.**

**Credit for the characters and much of the dialogue and plot goes to the incomparable J.K. Rowling. **

**Credit for the brilliant Sorting Hat Song goes to Laura H., winner of the Leaky Cauldron's Sorting Hat Song contest. Really, I not much of a poet and would never have been able to write something that magnificent. **

**Thank you to the both of you for allowing me to borrow your work without permission. **


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